VII-2,500 by 1,300 feet, once full of wa
ter-is full of grass. And Banteay Kdei,
called the citadel of cells because of its
many gallery-connected small chambers
for Buddhas, for monks-is a mess.
Blocks of stone lie jumbled where a gal
lery has fallen in. The sun shines through
where more pieces of the corbeled vault will
follow before long (page 575). In the center
of a littered chamber, where once a statue
stood, I see a charred palm stalk. "Some
body burned it to make smoke," says Pich
Keo, "so the bats will fall." So they can be
eaten, in bat soup.
I see a column made of two vertical pieces,
originally held together by bronze clamps.
Those clamps were taken long ago, presum
ably for their magic properties; a dagger of
Angkor bronze has special powers. In the
early 1920s, the Conservancy encircled the
two-piece column with a steel hoop. That
was removed recently, presumably to make
a rim for an oxcart wheel.
In another chamber sits a Buddha image
disfigured with black paint (facing page).
Isn't that awful? Yes and no. The wavy pat
tern on the Buddha's chest is the same that
many Khmer carry tattooed on theirs, for
protection against illness or injury. By
daubing the image, the dauber apparently
hoped to gain protection for himself.
But what's that, painted on the Buddha's
arm, a wristwatch? I got an authoritative
explanation, later, as follows:
In the time of Khmer Rouge rule, when all
religion was officially despised, some under
ling defaced this image with the approval of
his Khmer Rouge superiors; but deep inside
he hoped that by presenting the Buddha
with a symbolic wristwatch he might some
how acquire a real one himself-preferably
a Swiss Omega, then the mark of high func
tionaries. He hoped to become a powerful
man himself, by magic ....
I remember some Angkor magic myself.
In a dark recess of the Bayon was a well.
Chinese businesswomen from Phnom Penh
were said to buy its water, to bathe in so as to
do well financially and be more attractive to
men. Soldiers went away with full bottles. It
was clear, and cold, and gloriously refresh
ing. An old gentleman assured me it would
give me long life.
That was in 1968, when some 70,000
tourists came, many of them Americans on
round-the-world trips, and stayed at a luxu
rious inn near the main causeway to Angkor
Wat. A hundred thousand were expected in
1970; Air France built another hotel.
It was just finished when Vietnamese
Communist guerrillas attacked government
troops nearby. From then on they and the
Khmer Rouge, then their allies, held sway at
Angkor; tourism was finished. Groslier was
allowed to continue his work on a limited
scale, but in 1972 he was ordered out.
The few visitors to Angkor nowadays
official delegations from Communist coun
tries, international-aid functionaries from
Phnom Penh, the odd journalist-are put up
three miles away in the little provincial cap
ital of Siem Reap, at the old Grand Hotel. Of
those two luxury hotels right at Angkor,
nothing remains.
The Grand Hotel has running water, and
electricity in the evening. In the morning,
before the sun becomes too intense, the
benches in front are occupied by goats. Vis
iting the monuments requires an armed es
cort of provincial militia; there might be
troublesome Pol Pot guerrillas about. This
morning the militiamen carry extra percus
sion grenades. We're off to see some of Ang
kor's formidable hydraulic works.
KHMER PROSPERITY depended on
water-on its favorable distribution
throughout the growing seasons, with
the rice fields softened for tilling and
then flooded at the right times. But the
monsoon rains might come too early or too
late. And so, when building a major monu
ment, the Khmer would construct what has
been termed a hydraulic city. With canals,
wide moats, and baray-huge rectangular
reservoirs.
These baray were not dug into the earth.
They were formed by the raising of dikes.
When such a reservoir is filled by rain and a
diked river, the water level will be above the
level of the plain; when water is needed,
open the sluices and gravity will distribute it
via irrigation canals and ditches. Thus dry
season farming is possible too.
By these means the Khmer obtained two
and even three harvests a year, sustaining
an enormous population on which rested the
kingdom's economic, demographic, and
Angkor: Ancient Glory in Stone
571